At the Farm in the Fall
8 December 2011 2 Comments
A long straight rolling road
Brown between autumn fields
Late at night on the high plain
Comes a brilliant shooting star
Arcing through the twinkling black
Burning fiercely fast and bright
High across the inky starry night
Through thin and unsustaining air
Flaming hot and dying in a wink
Briefly seen alone that night
And now
Gone.
We reconvene at the car,
Loaded with our pumpkins.
We return to young lives,
Still burning bright.
December 2011
About Jay C Ritterson
... JAEZZ Views 
I like this poem, but found the word “plane” used here a bit confusing.
Did you mean plane? or perhaps, plain?
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